Change Is Different
by Eolande
Summary: When a Muggle Professor recieves magical abilities, Hogwarts is destined to change...So are the Malfoys.
1. Unpromising Beginnings

Change Is.Different  
  
Disclaimer: Perhaps, if you have just been raised form the dead, like a certain Dark Lord, you won't know that Harry Potter is the brain-child of JK Rowling, and not to people like me.  
  
Chapter One: Unpromising Beginnings  
  
"Ah, Miss Kaelar, day-dreaming AGAIN.Well, as much as it grieves me to give you yet another detention, it appears I must. Surely, a pupil of your great age would know better?... Miss Kaelar?"  
  
The shouts of an angry Professor McGonagall jolted me out of my idyllic reverie. "What? Did you say something, 'great Professor'?"  
  
McGonagall looked livid. Firstly, I had ignored her, which was a foreign concept because her students all adored or feared her, and secondly, I was being rude (see above reasons). "Kaelar, special circumstances or no, you are my student and I will tolerate no disrespect. I am increasing your detention to a full week!"  
  
"So?" I queried. I was bored (hated Transfiguration with a passion), and I was sick of this harpy badgering me.  
  
"That's it!" she exploded, "We're going to see the Headmaster!"  
  
"Fine with me," I said as I picked up my belongings from the old bat's classroom. "I'll lead the way. After all, I've seen it enough times to know where it is. Tell Albus I like my tea with one sugar."  
  
"Ahhhh!" She looked ready to explode as she called Madame Pince to substitute 2nd year Transfiguration. All the cheeky little Gryffindors, especially the know-it-all Granger, glared at me as I went to leave, but my fellow Slytherins looked proud. Malfoy, in particular, looked like Christmas had come early. Really early, seeing as we were only a month into the school year.  
  
"Now, come with me Kaelar," McGonagall barked. This was a bit ironic because she was still in the class and I was half way down the hall. As a last-minute afterthought, she called, "Potter! Malfoy! Come along so the Headmaster can hear your sides to support my case against this girl."  
  
"You mean WOMAN!" I called over my shoulder. "In case you didn't realise it, I'm twenty-nine years old."  
  
"You ought to be expelled and you will if I get my way!" McGonagall shrieked.  
  
"Whatever," I said and continued sauntering towards Dumbledore's office.  
  
When we arrived, I found both Snape and Dumbledore waiting. Dumbledore was, as usual, drinking tea and sucking on lemon drops, and Snape was being himself. You know, the vampire persona? Glowering and scowling while wearing those ridiculous black frock coats. Someone seriously needed to tell this man it was no longer 1850.  
  
"So, Minerva, what has she done THIS time?" queried Dumbledore, eyes glimmering over his half-moon glasses.  
  
My anger boiled over at this point, and I started hurling curses in Gaelic, my parent's mother tongue. I didn't use any overly rude terms, but calling someone a Foemori (ugly water demon) isn't exactly complimentary.  
  
Snape seemed to find my little outburst amusing. "So, it appears that the newest addition to Slytherin House is blooming nicely," he commented.  
  
Dumbledore looked like he was trying to restrain his chuckles in deference to McGonagall. He was not exactly succeeding, but I supposed that was trying. "Harry, why don't YOU tell us what happened in Professor McGonagall's class."  
  
Harry looked a little nervous about testifying against a Slytherin in front of Snape, but he managed to spew out some words. "Well sir, Professor McGonagall asked Aerin a question and she wasn't listening, so McGonagall said 'detention' and Aerin said 'whatever'."  
  
I had to butt in at this point, because my pride was feeling a little bruised. "Excuse me, little boy, but my name is Professor Kaelar to you. I spent 25 years of my life in various levels of school for that degree and I expect children to USE MY TITLE!"  
  
Harry's complexion had paled and he looked like he wanted to leave. "Sorry," he mumbled, "Point taken."  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore kindly said, "If you want to leave now, you can."  
  
"Thanks," he said and ran.  
  
Snape looked sour, as usual. "Draco, what's your side to Minerva's fiasco?"  
  
Draco preened his perfectly slicked-back hair before starting into the biggest suck-up story ever. "Well Professor, this is what happened. Professor McGonagall threw a screaming fit when Professor Kaelar didn't answer her question immediately. Professor Kaelar then raised her eyebrow and said 'So?' and McGonagall disrupted the class by dragging us to the Headmaster's office."  
  
I felt the need to correct something here. "Draco, my lad, as you are part of my house, or whatever they call them here, you may call me Aerin."  
  
"Thank you, Aerin," the little blonde weasel said with a mock bow.  
  
Meanwhile, Snape had been sitting in his wingback chair with a delighted expression on his face. "So Minerva," he called as he exited the office with the blonde weasel in tow, "I'm so sorry to hear that your great age has finally made you irrational!"  
  
A/N: I know Malfoy gets turned into a ferret in book four, but for circumstances I've yet to explain Aerin is a new student and this wouldn't have happened yet anyway, so she just thinks he looks like a weasel. Also, I know the second book is long gone, but the way my story takes place there are few Gryffindors appearing, so say these things aren't in the book because they're not about Harry. Also, with the basilisk and all, there would've been better things to think about. 


	2. In Which Developments Begin To Occur

Change Is.Different  
  
Disclaimer: As the world must know, I do not have the perspicacity to make up such a shining jewel as Harry Potter. This belongs to JK Rowling.  
  
Chapter 2: In Which Developments Begin To Occur  
  
Dumbledore looked at me with that self-satisfied twinkle in his eyes that seemed to project feelings of self-control and wisdom, which, incidentally, are qualities that I have never possessed and find annoying in others. "Well, Aerin, it seems that you aren't settling into Hogwarts as well as we might have hoped."  
  
Well, duh. That was the proverbial understatement of the year. Spending half of one's academic career at a new school in the office of some faculty member for "BAD BEHAVIOUR" is not exactly settling in. Still, I supposed that Dumbledore wasn't used to twenty-nine year old students, or teachers for that matter. Snape was the youngest teacher in the school and he was like forty-five. Not to mention the students were only seventeen at the most. I was the 'ugly duckling' of Hogwarts, in the sense I didn't belong. (Not that I'm ugly, I'm actually not that bad. More on that later.)  
  
"Well, Dumbledore, it seems to me that I'm not settling in here because I don't want to be here. When someone is almost thirty, you don't want to be dragged back to England when you've been happily living in Portugal so you can attend a boarding school for adolescents who want to kill each other with little wooden sticks. This whole magic idea is completely crazy and I don't want anything to do with it. I still can't believe you and that crazy cat-transforming woman made me come here!"  
  
Dumbledore seemed to lose his composure briefly, and then quickly regained it. "Well Miss Kaelar, it seems to me that you dislike it so much at this school because you feel that you don't fit in. The students are all half your age and the teachers are considerably older. Perhaps I could organize some interaction between older members of the wizarding community and you so you won't feel so isolated."  
  
"Look, Dumbledore, I don't feel isolated in your school, I feel alone in this whole world. I'm not a witch, no matter what you say. I'm a linguistics professor. I document languages. I don't play with little sticks trying to do things that I can do myself anyway. What's the point of a cleaning charm to begin with? I can wash my own clothes, clean my own house, and brush my own teeth by hand. I think it's completely unfair that people should be denied a choice about whether or not to come here."  
  
"Miss Kaelar, try to understand. It's a miracle that you can do any of those charms at all. You didn't have any magic till last April, and now you do!"  
  
"Oh, is that supposed to be some sort of consolation prize? I don't want anything to do with your world. It's all about bigoted, inbred 'purebloods' like weasel-boy Malfoy, or know-it-alls like Granger who think they've got something to prove because they're 'Mudbloods". This whole wizard thing is all about pretending to be something you're not. I'm a horrible pretender and I don't want to be a WITCH!"  
  
Dumbledore looked very grave. "All right, Miss Kaelar, you leave me no choice. I'd thought you'd see reason, but I'll have to make sure you stay in the school. It's not safe to let an untrained witch or wizard loose on the world. They might hurt someone or themselves with raw magic. I'm going to have to find a way to keep you here.And when you report to your next class, Herbology I believe, please refrain from calling your fellow students names. Professor Sprout might not be as understanding as I am."  
  
Herbology passed without incident, mostly due to the fact that it was with the Hufflepuffs, not the Gryffindors. I'm sure some Gryffindors were nice, but the self-righteous image they projected (and still do) was insufferable. Hufflepuffs are very nice children and they all offered to help me and were quite good about me ignoring them the whole time.  
  
Next, however, was lunch and the gossip buzzing around me was too much to bear. I inwardly vowed to punch the next person to cross me, but fortunately for them my scowl kept them all away. Even my fellow Slytherins were wary.  
  
Right after lunch, I had Ancient Runes, an elective course I had chosen because, as a linguist, I knew practically everything on the curriculum. It would have been the only class I enjoyed but for one thorn in my side, the Granger girl. She was one of those people who are obsessed with perfection. She always had her hand waving through the air trying to impress the teacher with her intelligence. Good grief, that girl needed a good smack around the head more than anything. She was always lecturing and the teacher loved it.  
  
"Oh! Oh! I know then answer to the bonus question you assigned last night!" Sure enough, she was barely in her seat and her hand was waving for all it was worth. I too knew the answer, but I couldn't have been bothered to try and compete with the shining star of the Granger girl.  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger," asked Professor Carlen, a witch in her late fifties, with that delighted 'I'm asking someone who's sure to know the answer' look on her face.  
  
"Well, Professor Carlen, I studied some old books I purchased from an antique dealer for some hours last night and I've discovered that the Scandinavian text translates to, 'When earth is still, the heavens are more easily seen to the searching pilgrim.' I thought it might be wrong though, so I compared it against the other stone shields found in the vicinity."  
  
"Excellent, Miss Granger. Thirty points to Gryffindor for your diligence! That is truly remarkable work you have done. I even had trouble getting that answer," exclaimed the professor with an awed look on her wrinkled face.  
  
I felt compelled to interrupt at this point. I am a linguist after all, and I saw a definite hole in her translation. "Professor, if I may interrupt our golden girl's shining moment here, I am a professional linguist, and I feel that her translation is wrong." I paused here for dramatic effect and heard gasps coming from all over the room. Apparently, no one ever contradicted the bushy-haired know-it-all. She was in for a shock.  
  
"Explain yourself, Miss Kaelar. You are a troublesome student and Miss Granger is a child prodigy. Who should I believe?" asked that brainwashed Granger-lover.  
  
"Well, me. You see, I am a linguist. I translate old texts for a living. The inscription, which incidentally Granger I was immediately able to read, goes as follows, 'If earth were to be still, then would this pilgrim gaze upon the starry heavens.' I bet you didn't compare the text against the ones in Lithuania, did you? The other stones in Norway have all proven false and cannot be trusted for translation. Of course, if you lived in the REAL world, and not this psychotic one, you'd know that." I sat down with a smirk.  
  
Both Granger and Carlen were sputtering at being proven wrong. Granger recovered first. "Nonsense. I know that you're just jealous that I can do something better that you and you're being hateful."  
  
Then Carlen spoke up. "I'm afraid she's right, Miss Granger. It does seem that we both translated the text wrong. Fifty points to Slytherin, Miss Kaelar, and Miss Granger, I'm sorry, but I'll have to take back the points I gave you." Gosh, I loved that woman then. She'd neatly put the Granger girl in her place.  
  
Granger wasn't happy though. She stood up and marched over to me with her textbook in hand. "I hate you! You Slytherin, you! You just go out of your way to be mean to Gryffindors. You should just keep your mouth shut. How smart can you be, you're like thirty years old and you're only a second year! Why don't you go back where you came from?"  
  
I'd had enough by this point. "Shut up, Granger," I said. Then I hit her over the head with her textbook. I promptly left the class and went straight for the Headmaster's office, as I knew I'd be sent there anyway.  
  
However, as I left, I heard something that surprised me. After making sure she was alright, Carlen assigned Hermione detention for verbal abuse and led the class in a short round of applause (to me, I assumed) before resuming the class.  
  
A/N: How'd you like it? Please review! 


	3. In Which Lucius Malfoy Complains

Change Is.Different  
  
Disclaimer: Okay, all of you have heard this before, so I'll make it interesting. Q: Who does the concept of Harry Potter belong to? A: If you said JK Rowling, you are right! If you said Eolande, go see a doctor!  
  
Chapter Three: In Which Lucius Malfoy Complains  
  
As I had been standing outside the Headmaster's office, waiting for whatever helpful advice he would certainly offer, I noticed a man come stomping towards me. I had never seen this man before, and so assumed he must be a parent, and judging by his posture, an angry one. He looked faintly like someone I knew. He had blondish hair, blue-grey eyes, tall enough, looked rich..Well; the rich part had clinched it for me. He must have been weasel-boy Malfoy's father.  
  
I noticed him staring at me. I wondered if it was just the fact that I'm almost thirty and still wearing student robes, or that I was just being sullen, cranky sort of person. When he walked up to wait for the Headmaster with me, I decided that there was no harm in being a bit polite, so I did something new: I started a conversation.  
  
"Hello," I said, "You must be Draco Malfoy's father. My name is Aerin, I'm also in Slytherin House, and I'm not exactly pleased to meet you."  
  
The poor man just didn't know what to say. "Sorry? You said your IN Slytherin House? Is that possible, you look a little old? And how do you know me? Are you related to the Parkinsons? You look a bit like Pansy."  
  
Well, that was a horrible insult if you ever heard one. No one in their right mine wants to look like an adolescent, much less an ugly one. I retaliated in the only way I knew how. Breaking into tears and glaring. The poor man didn't seem to know what was wrong with me, so he gave me his handkerchief (very ornate, didn't look like it was meant to be used at all) and tried to start over.  
  
Never let it be said Slytherins are all-round mean people. It's just an image they project to keep other people cough*Gryfindors*cough from bothering them. This Mr. Malfoy chap seemed to be fairly nice under his 'holier and richer than thou' exterior.  
  
"Miss.Aerin did you say?...I'm sorry if I've offended you. Rest assured it was not intentional. My name is Mr. Lucius Malfoy and I ma Draco's father. Why don't you tell me why you are in my son's House."  
  
"Well, Mr. Malfoy, it's none of your business why I'm attending this crackpot facility, but rest assured, I hate it here. I, in fact, loathe the school and all its occupants. They also dislike me. Happy?"  
  
"Well, Miss, that's quite sad. Is that why you're visiting the Headmaster? To get out of the school?"  
  
"I wish it was. It so happens that I'm awaiting reams of detention for assaulting another student."  
  
Mr. Malfoy had a very knowing expression in his eyes. I'd bet anything he'd assaulted a few peers in his day. "Using spells in the corridor? I hope you got the Gryffindor before the teachers caught you. What was it? Body bind, jelly legs."  
  
Well, this man had been in for a surprise. "Actually, Mr. Malfoy, I hit Hermione Granger over the head with a text book. Why are you here?"  
  
The poor man looked ready to burst out laughing, but was trying to restrain himself. "Hermione Granger? You hit Granger over the head with a text book? "  
  
Well that settled it. Anyone who disliked Granger this much was all right in my books. "Yes I did. She basically called me a liar who knew nothing about rune translation. I took that very personally because I'm a professional linguist. Nice to meet you Mr. Malfoy. I'm Professor Aerin Kaelar."  
  
"But.but you're a .a.."  
  
"IF you say Muggle or Mudblood, I'll hit you too. I hate this whole bigoted 'I'm better than you' contest among you people. It's completely foolish. Now, why don't you go away before I contaminate your pureblood air."  
  
Never let it be said that Dumbledore had bad timing. He let me into his office right then and I left an extremely bewildered Lucius Malfoy in the halls.  
  
"Miss Kaelar, back again. Twice in one day, you must be breaking even the Weasley twins' record. What, may I ask, is so bad about my school that you must assault your peers?"  
  
I decided to be completely honest. I had been suppressing my feelings for three moths and I was sick of it. "Nothing. It's just.I have no friends here. When you made me come this July, I left my whole life behind. I'm twenty-nine! I have family and friends who, thanks to you, think I'm documenting Quecha in South America. I never see them at all. I miss my boyfriend and my dog and my sister. I'm just sick of being a novelty to this place and I want to go home."  
  
Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Miss Kaelar, if I'd known you felt that way, I'd have arranged for you to visit earlier. I'm sorry, I'd just thought you'd write. or apparate like our teachers and older students do. I wish there was something I could do."  
  
"What! You mean I can't leave!"  
"It's not that you can't, it's more that I don't trust you to go anywhere alone. You're unstable about magic and I think you wouldn't come back."  
  
"I guess you're right, I probably wouldn't. Is there any way you could take me?" This prospect had just occurred to me, and it sounded great.  
  
"I can't, personally, but I suppose I could arrange for you to go with another student. I suppose a muggle-born like Miss Granger would be preferable..Now stop that glaring, I was just teasing. I know you just hit her with a book. How about young Mr. Malfoy? He's in your year and your house and could supervise you while you show him around."  
  
Well, this idea seemed lovely and I hugged Dumbledore in thanks.  
  
I was going home! 


End file.
